


Seven Minutes

by Emily_MC



Series: Johnlock AU's [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Again, Bisexual John, Boys Kissing, Cliche, Confidently bisexual John, John is an idiot, M/M, Seven Minutes In Heaven, Teenlock, Underage Drinking, Vic is only mentioned, au promts, i love it, in this chapter, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 06:09:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4210995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emily_MC/pseuds/Emily_MC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"accidentally swapped phones with someone at a party and don't realize until their mom calls in the morning and when you go to her house to return the phone wow the kid is the really good kisser from the party last night" AU</p><p>except I changed mom to brother and i made them friends before...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seven Minutes

John Watson had no idea how Mike and Greg had managed to get him to this party. It was the night after the last day of sixth form, and almost everyone from their grade had been invited to a party at Sarah's house. She was from one of the most well off families in the area and so had a house large enough that everyone could fit. John had arrived with his mates close to 9 o'clock, and already the house was swarming with people. A stereo system was blaring through not only the house but the backyard pool as well. John was leaning against the bar in the basement of the house, watching his now former classmates mingle and sipping a beer.

 

    Across the room a large group of people were sitting in a circle, a bottle in the center. When John had first started watching them they were simply playing spin the bottle. But as the night had gone on and the alcohol had been poured more freely, it had developed into a game of Seven Minutes in Heaven. John had watched with amusement as people went in and out of the closet. It seemed to John that the first person was chosen from the group itself and the second at random from the room. He supposed it added an element of surprise.

 

     He shook his head with a small amount of fondness for his insane former classmates, and turned away from the game to find another beer. He knew there was a cooler upstairs so he climbed the stairs, pulling out his phone to see if he had any messages. He had one, from Greg, which was simply a bunch of random symbols. Greg was trashed, then. He chuckled as he was reaching into the cooler, and his phone vibrated again. This time it was a text from his best friend.

 

_This party is so boring. SH_

 

John's eyebrows rose. He'd had no idea that Sherlock was even at the party. He hadn't even tried to get him to come, knowing how much his friend hated these sorts of things.

 

_You're here? J_

_Obviously. Vic insisted. SH_

 

     Oh. well that would explain it, thought John with annoyance. Stupid "perfect" Victor Trevor. Sherlock's boyfriend. John hated him, although not for the reason everyone assumed. It wasn't because he was in love with Sherlock, because he defiantly wasn't. It was because Victor Trevor was an arrogant, stuck-up arsehole and he treated Sherlock like dirt. Victor didn't care about Sherlock, despite the lies he told the dark haired teen. All he cared about was having the most gorgeous and brilliant boy in their class as his personal play thing. And Sherlock, brilliant as he was, was fooled by his fake charm. The couple had been on and off for months now, and it was like torture for John to watch. Victor would drop Sherlock the moment someone that was, in his eyes, more interesting, came along, only to come back and plead for Sherlock's forgiveness the moment that other poor sod realized how horrible he was.

 

_Although I don't know why. He's ignored me since we got here. SH_

_I'm downstairs, and insanely bored. Come entertain me. J_

 

  
John returned his phone to his jacket pocket and walked back down the stairs, to wait for Sherlock. But as soon as he reached the bottom he was grabbed by Sarah, and pulled towards the game still going on at the back of the room. He protested weakly, but Sarah was having none of it. She sat him down in the circle, and a boy from John's Bio class, Preston, reached forward and spun the bottle. Everyone in the circle began clapping and chanting, pointing at their friends or pleading for the bottle to stop on them. After a few minutes of spinning, the bottle slowed down and stopped.

 

     On John.

 

     John couldn't believe this. The only reason he'd agreed to even join the game was because he figured in the five or so minutes it would take Sherlock to get away from Victor and downstairs that he wouldn't get chosen. There were about 20 people in the circle for God's sake. He groaned and tried to plead his way out of it, but his "friends" wouldn't have it. He was pulled into a standing position and pushed none to gently into the dark closet before he even knew what was going on.

 

    "You know the rules, Watson." he heard his old rugby teammate Bill say through the door. "We're going to pick someone for you. No lights, no talking. You get seven minutes. Enjoy." John groaned again and hit the door with his head. He leaned there for a moment before walking to the back of the closet and sitting down against the wall.

 

     From feeling around he could tell that the closet was quite skinny, just wide enough for two people to stand with only a few inches between them. Of course. However, it was fairly long and from his position at the back the light from the door wouldn't hit him and give away the surprise. He rolled his eyes, and wondered who he'd get stuck with. His mind contemplated the people he wouldn't mind joining him....He'd already made out with Sarah once, so that wouldn't be too bad, and there was that really fit bloke in his Chemistry class who's name he couldn't remember....

 

     John didn't have time to think of the rest of his list before the door was opening and the bright light from the room blinded him long enough for the chosen person to be shoved in and the door was closed, submerging the two of them in pitch darkness.

 

     Fighting the urge to offer an awkward greeting, John stood, tentatively moving to lean against the left wall. He felt the presence of the other person move to lean opposite him. A few moments of silence and stillness followed.

 

     Then suddenly John felt a hesitant hand brush his arm, obviously seeking him out in the darkness. He slowly reached to it and brought it to his shoulder, giving the person an idea of where he was. The skin of that hand was smooth, and, as it slowly slid up his neck to cup his face, cool. It felt good on his skin. John reflexively tilted his head into the touch, reaching out to grab the other persons body. His hand made contact with where he assumed the persons hip would be, but instead of feeling both pants and shirt, he felt only the smooth denim of a pair of tight jeans. So this person was taller than him. That ruled out Sarah, but most people were taller than him. He slid his hand up, under the jacket, and finally found the hold he was looking for. An almost silky shirt met his fingertips, and he ran his hand over it to rest on the person's back.

 

     The body under his hand felt firm, and he was fairly certain by now that it was another bloke. Which didn't bother him one bit. Just as he was about to reach up with his other hand to feel for his partners face, he felt the body moving toward his own. In a moment of luck, the boy's lips met his on the first try, and John's eyes fluttered closed as he returned the slow kiss.

 

      John slid his other hand up his chest to wrap around his neck. Something tickled the backs of his fingers, and he moved them up to feel soft curls. With a small noise of pleasure as the kiss was suddenly deepened, he slid his fingers into the hair and gripped gently. His mystery partner was enthusiastic in his kissing, sucking lightly on John's upper and lower lips in turn. He felt deft fingers unzipping his jacket, and questioningly pushing it off his shoulders. John allowed the removal, and he heard his jacket (and, consequently, his cell phone) fall to the closet floor. He thought nothing of it, too invested in the now heated kiss. He quickly pushed the others jacket off as well. John had never felt anything like this. He never wanted it to end.  

 

     Strong arms gently pushed John against the wall, the taller body leaning over him as hot kisses were placed on his neck and jaw. John's head tilted up, trying not to groan as talented lips found his most sensitive spot and sucked hard. _Jesus, that will leave a mark._ John thought, be he didn't care one bit as those lips found his again and resumed the now _very_ heated kiss. John let his fingers graze the hem of his partner's shirt, slowly sliding underneath when....

 

     "Alrighty, boys, times up!!" came Bill's voice from outside the closet. Suddenly, the real world came crashing back to John. He'd just spent seven minutes snogging a random boy at a party. And he wanted to keep going. His partner let the kiss break, panting slightly. He felt the body move away from him. After a few moments of rustling he felt his jacket being pressed against his chest and a phone into his hand. A phantom brush of lips passed over his own and he chased it, but the stranger shook his head and stepped away. "Oi, go all the way to the back. First bloke comes out first, the second look at the wall. Gotta keep some mystery to all this, eh?"  Bill called.

 

     They followed the instructions and soon the door was opened. John squinted against the light and, resisting the urge to look at the other boy, left the closet. He tried to stick around and wait for him to come out, but as soon as he stepped out, he was ambushed by a very drunk Greg supported by a completely sober Mike.

 

     "John, we've got to get him home and I'm your ride, too." Mike said, then glanced up at his disheveled hair and half on coat and smirked. "Have fun, eh, Johnny?" John rolled his eyes, flattening his hair and pulling on his jacket. "Let's just get his drunken arse home, yea?" he said, avoiding their teasing and laughing. He wrapped Greg's other arm around his shoulders and together him and Mike led Greg up the stairs.

 

     As they loaded their friend into the car, John thought about his mystery make out partner. He thought about those heavenly curls and those lips...

 

     He was broken out of his reverie by Mike. "Hey, John. Did I actually see Sherlock here?" he questioned, unbelieving. "He never comes to these things."  John started. Sherlock! He'd forgotten all about his friend. He pulled out his phone to text him, and discovered it was dead. He thought that odd as he was pretty sure it had been at least half charged when he got to Sarah's, but shrugged. He would text Sherlock when he got home. His friend would understand.

 

     About an hour later, after struggling to get a passed out Greg into his house, John got home. He thanked Mike for the ride and crept quietly up the stairs and into his room. He plugged his phone in, turned it on, stripped down to his pants, and crawled into bed. Immediately he fell asleep, thoughts of his stranger in his head, and his best friend momentarily forgotten once again.

 

 

     The last thing John expected to be woken up by the next morning was the loud ringing of a phone. He groaned and rolled over in bed, shoving a pillow over his head. Eventually the ringing stopped and he was greeted by blissful silence....until it started up again. John let the phone ring out three times before he finally grumbled, "Bloody hell. what's so damn important..." and reached for the phone. He glanced at the caller ID.

 

_Mycroft_

     Mycroft? Why was Sherlock's brother calling him at...7 o'clock in the morning?? John's heart skipped. Maybe something had happened to Sherlock? He quickly answered but before he could say anything Mycroft started ranting.

 

     "Sherlock Holmes!! I have called you five times now, and I do not appreciate being ignored. You were supposed to be home at midnight, where are you??" he berated. John frowned in confusion. Sherlock? Why did Mycroft think he was Sherlock?

 

     "Mycroft, its John, why are you calling me? Sherlock's not with me." he said tiredly. (He would later blame the slight hangover for the fact that he didn't immediately put together what had happened.)

 

     John heard the phone move, and assumed Mycroft was checking to see that he had called the right number, which he apparently hadn't. But then Mycroft came back... "I am currently in connection with the number that belongs to my brother. I think the better question is, why do you have it?"

 

     The blonde frowned, looking at the phone. It was the same model as his own, the same color, but...there was a small discoloration on the bottom right corner from where Sherlock had once spilt a beaker of acid in Chemistry...

 

"This is Sherlock's phone.." he murmured. Mycroft made a small sound that clearly said _"Obviously."_ John rolled his eyes and put the phone back to his ear. "I don't know how I ended up with this, I didn't even see Sherlock last night cause I got stuck...."

 

     Suddenly it hit John. He'd dropped his phone last night in the closet. He dropped his phone when the stranger had pushed his jacket off in the dark....And he'd also pushed off the jacket of said stranger...except...if John was correct than wasn't a stranger at all...it was _Sherlock._ He'd snogged Sherlock. He had spent seven heavenly minutes snogging Sherlock Holmes. And he'd enjoyed the hell out of it.

 

"...-ohn...John!" he heard Mycroft distantly in the background as his mind practically collapsed with this new information. He interrupted the man to quickly breathe out, "I'll bring you the phone in an hour." And he hung up.

 

     His heart was pounding. How did he not realize this sooner? The tallness, the curly hair, the dress shirt...it all pointed straight to his best friend. Did Sherlock realize that it was John? Did he know before he went in and kissed him? Or did he work it out in the middle? If he knew did that mean he liked John as much as John liked him?

 

     Wait. What? Did John like Sherlock? He couldn't...that was his best friend. But...well it would explain why he felt so jealous of stupid Victor...and that tight feeling in his chest when he looked at Sherlock.

 

     _Holy shit_ , thought John. _I like Sherlock. I...I might even love him. Shit._  


 

     He shook his head. First things first. Return the phone. And confront Sherlock. 

**Author's Note:**

> This one already has a second chapter in the works. Otherwise it would be waaay too long.


End file.
